


to make a home

by desastrista



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desastrista/pseuds/desastrista
Summary: "It began with a knock on the door. Keith regarded it with suspicion; a cabin in the desert didn't tend to get a lot of visitors.He opened the door to see Shiro standing there, wearing a sad smile. 'Is it weird,' Shiro asked, 'to say I had hoped you wouldn't be here?'"The war is over and Voltron has won. The paladins return home. But for Keith, coming home takes a little longer. Luckily Shiro is there to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueerSpaceLions (Anglophile_Fiend)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglophile_Fiend/gifts).



> This was written for the Fandom Trumps Hate auction. It's super late so thank you QueerSpaceLions for your endless patience! You said you liked domestic fluff and smut, so hopefully this delivers.

It began with a knock on the door. Keith regarded it with suspicion; a cabin in the desert didn't tend to get a lot of visitors.

He opened the door to see Shiro standing there, wearing a sad smile. “Is it weird,” Shiro asked, “to say I had hoped you wouldn't be here?” 

Keith gave a snort halfway between amused and annoyed and opened the door wider to let his former classmate -- former paladin -- into the cabin. 

“Why wouldn't I be here? I live here.”

Shiro did not answer the question. “We missed you at Hunk’s party.”

“Who's we?” Keith tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. If Shiro noticed it, he didn't say anything.

“The whole team was there. Even the Holts came. All of them. Matt asked me if I knew where you had gone.” 

When they had come back to Earth, the Holts had thrown a big party in their backyard. A traditional Holt family barbeque, Dr. Holt had called it. Keith wouldn’t know. He had never been to a family barbeque before, much less a traditional Holt one. But he had gone to that party. It felt like something he was supposed to do. Team Voltron had saved the universe and made their way back home. They were supposed to be celebrating. Luckily for Keith, it turned out family barbeques were easy. He just had to sit quietly at the table and eat and listen and laugh with everyone until he was able to ignore the quiet unease that he felt at being the guest at someone else’s family’s celebration.

He had almost fooled himself into thinking the whole thing was normal. He must have fooled everyone else. That's why they'd ask about him.

“What did you tell him?” Keith forced himself back to the present. 

“I told him that you were sick,” Shiro said. “I told everyone that you were sick and that you were sad you couldn’t make it.”

Keith gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry you had to lie like that.” 

“Does it count as a lie if it was something that I had hoped might be true?” Shiro asked, and for a second the corner of his mouth almost lifted into a smile. But his expression sobered quickly. “Keith, when you didn’t show up, I wanted -- I wanted to make sure you were okay. But when you left, you didn’t say where you went. I looked around for a while. Finally thought of looking here.” 

The party at the Holts’ had been such a success, and everyone swore they absolutely had to do it again. Lance invited them, spur-of-the-moment, to his house the next week. “The whole family will be there,” he had said, “I’ve been telling everyone about where we’ve been and what we did. And trust me when I say I have a large family, so I’ve had to tell the story a lot of times.” 

“Wow, that must be really hard for you,” Keith had said, “Thanks for taking one for the team.”

Everyone had laughed, even Lance, and somehow Keith had convinced himself that the barbeque had really gone just fine and the next one would be even better. 

Back in the cabin, Shiro was looking expectantly at Keith. Keith’s mouth set in a hard line. 

The trip to Cuba had not been better. 

The flight had been fine. Keith went with Shiro. He had been staying at Shiro’s at the time. Shiro had been the one to buy the plane tickets. (Keith hadn’t liked the idea of being on a flight where someone else was the pilot, but Allura and Coran had kept the lions when the paladins had decided to be paladins no more, and Shiro didn’t approve of them commandeering any vessel capable of making the trip over the Florida Strait.) Initially, Keith had balked at the cost, but Shiro insisted it would be his treat. 

The other paladins had come back to homes, to families. Even Shiro, who had been living on his own before he had embarked on the Kerberos mission a lifetime and a half ago, had a father he could go back to: a father who gaped and stared and demanded the full story when Shiro told him that he had not died in an accident on the other side of the galaxy, but had in fact survived, been taken captive by aliens, and gone on to fight (and defeat!) those very aliens.

There was no one to listen to Keith’s story who hadn’t heard it before. 

Keith had no family, no job, no home to which to come back. He had been in the Garrison before they had left Earth, but he had gotten himself expelled and had no desire to go back anyway.

The only way he had been able to afford the flight was because Shiro paid for it. The only reason he had a place to stay was because Shiro had offered one. 

Shiro had never met a charity case he didn’t try to help. That was why he had come to this cabin after all, wasn’t it? 

“Well, you found me. And you wanted to know if I was okay,” Keith snapped. “Here I am. I’m okay. Nothing to worry about. Mission accomplished.” 

He hadn’t meant the words to sound like an accusation, but they hung heavy in the air. Shiro’s expression looked pained. “Keith,” he started, and then stopped. In the silence, Keith felt the first pangs of regret. Shiro was only trying to be nice. Keith didn’t have to go about picking fights. Shiro was being the reasonable one, the responsible one, just like he always was. 

Shiro opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly and shook his head instead. “No,” he finally said, “You’re right.” 

Keith just blinked in confusion. “I’m -- right?” he responded, weakly. 

“I felt like I had to find you,” Shiro explained. “But you left. You told me that you wanted to be alone for a while. I should have listened. This place -- it’s yours. It’s private. I knew that, but I came here looking for you anyway. I shouldn’t have. It’s intruding.” 

“It’s not intruding,” Keith felt compelled to say. “You’re not intruding.” Shiro looked more surprised than he should have at the words. “It was the right thing to do. Checking up on me. I told people I would go to Hunk’s party. I told Hunk I would go. And --,” he stopped for a minute. His tongue was heavy with more words than he could think of to say. Somehow none of them felt quite right. “I didn’t,” was all he could wrestle out. 

“Why didn’t you go?” Shiro asked. His tone was soft; there was no accusation in his voice. 

Cuba, Keith wanted to say. The word was at the tip of his tongue. 

He knew it didn’t make sense. 

The trip to Cuba had been fine. The flight had been uneventful. Shiro had fallen asleep while Keith had gazed wistfully at the clouds below the plane’s wings. Lance’s parent’s house was about a thirty minute drive from the airport. They rented an off-roader just so they could taste the salt in the air as they approached the ocean. The address that Lance gave them was a good hike away from the beach, but Lance had promised that they would get an opportunity to see it. But first, he had said, dinner at his parent’s. 

So Shiro and Keith had stepped into the house and discovered that it was packed. 

Children were screaming. Adults were holding drinks and laughing. A cry of surprise had rippled through the room when people saw that Keith and Shiro had arrived. 

“Oh, you must be Lance’s friend,” someone said. 

“He’s told us all about you!” 

“Were you there when he saved that colony of -- how do you call them -- mermaids?” 

If Shiro had been surprised, he recovered quickly, saying hello to everyone, asking their names and how they knew Lance. Keith had done his best to follow in a mute shock and had spent the next few minutes trying to remember how to make the muscles of his face move in a rough approximation of a smile and the right time to laugh and nod when people spoke to him.

The Garrison had hosted dances, galas, that sort of thing. Keith had attended one. A lot of people had shown up. Keith had found the experience strange and disoriented and had decided never to go again. 

Going to Cuba had felt like that night all over again. 

Except this was Lance’s family. These were his neighbors. They had all gotten together not because it was a particularly special occasion but just because they had wanted to. Because it was Lance. And they cared about Lance. 

The party went until the late hours. It spilled outside. Music was played. Food was served. Hunk had enthusiastically declared it one of the best parties he had ever been to and said, “We have to do this again. We should all host a party. We’ve fought aliens together, but we haven’t seen each other’s homes. That’s crazy, right? That’s crazy. Let’s fix it. My place next!” 

But that had been then. This was now. Now Shiro was looking at Keith. Keith knew he had let the silence stretch on too long. He had gotten too wrapped up in the memories. 

“That day -- when we went to Cuba,” Keith started, “Hunk invited all of us over.” 

Of course Shiro was going to remind him of the mistake he had made that day. “You said ‘yes’ then.” 

“I know,” Keith admitted. “And even as I said it, I knew I was lying. I couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth.” 

Shiro looked concerned. “What was the truth?” 

Keith just shook his head. He looked off to the side when he spoke. It was too difficult to look at Shiro and see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. 

“I thought I had found a home with Voltron. But it wasn’t going to last.” Keith couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. “What was I going to do, spend the rest of my time flying around space, fighting bad guys? We fought the Galra Empire. We won. Of course everyone would want to go home. I had just forgotten that everyone in this new family of mine had families of their own. They had homes to come back to. So this,” he gestured around the cabin, “was me, coming home.” 

The cabin was small. Bare. There wasn’t so much furniture as there was a haphazard arrangement of things pretending to be furniture. 

Shiro looked around, taking a minute to take the cabin in. “It’s nice,” he finally said. 

Keith let out a bark of a laugh. “No, it’s not.” 

“I remember the first time I stayed here,” Shiro said, and he started to walk around the room, looking at the boxes stacked to make a table and the falling-apart chairs as if seeing them for the first time. He spoke with an appreciative tone that seemed out of place for the junk he was talking about. “My first night on Earth in over a year. I was half out of my mind worrying that the Galra were going to come for me. And yet I think this was still the best sleep I’d seen for ages.” 

Despite himself, Keith’s face managed to twist itself into a smile. “Well, I’m glad these accommodations are better than a Galran prison ship.” 

Shiro turned back to face Keith. “I suspect you’ve already made some improvements to the place. You’re always tinkering with things, trying to improve them.” 

Keith felt a rush of warmth to his cheeks. He hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. 

“I wanted to start making a table tomorrow,” he suddenly blurted out. He had no idea why he had decided to announce that now. But the words were out, and now Shiro was looking expectantly at Keith. “You’re welcome to --,” Keith started again. “What I mean is, it’s getting late.” That was true: the sun was going to set soon. The first few rays of red line streamed through the bare windows. The way the sun came through the windows had been driving Keith crazy when he wanted to get anything done in the morning. But when the light fell across Shiro’s face so softly -- maybe it wasn’t so bad, then. Keith realized he had paused again and tried to remember what he had been saying. Cleared his throat. Then continued, “There’s nothing around for miles. You’re welcome to stay. If, uh, you want.” 

“Are you sure?” Shiro said, with an uncertain cock of his head. When Keith nodded, he added, “I can take the couch.” 

“No,” Keith cut in. “Guests should take the bed.” 

“When were you planning on getting started on this new table anyway? You might need some help and I have the feeling this Galra tech could be surprisingly useful when it comes to carpentry.” Shiro nodded towards his metal arm and despite the situation Keith couldn’t help but smile. 

“First thing in the morning,” he answered. With mock seriousness, he added, “Get some sleep, Shiro. We need to be rested for morning. The Galra Empire has been vanquished, but tomorrow we have a new enemy: furniture assembly.” 

“You always were a good leader,” Shiro replied, completely serious, except for the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

Later, when it was dark and Shiro had gone to bed, Keith found himself thinking about how he had not expected to sleep under the same roof as Shiro again so soon. For all the worries and anxieties that had consumed him since they had come back to Earth, it was hard to think about that twitch at the corner of Shiro’s mouth and not feel at least a little bit better.

Keith gave the pillow a punch or two before he finally drifted off to sleep. He was never going to get a good night’s rest if he kept up that line of thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, they will actually make good on that promise to build a table over the next few chapters!
> 
> If you ever want to talk domestic Sheith headcanons or fic, [my ask box is always open on tumblr](http://desastrista.tumblr.com/ask)


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro was already awake by the time that Keith woke up. He was sitting in the rather threadbare chair that was directly opposite the couch. Light was pouring into the room; Keith still hadn’t gotten around to buying curtains. Shiro seemed to be taking advantage of the bare windows to watch the horizon. He wore a placid expression that made it impossible for Keith to guess what he might have seen during his vigil. 

“Do you want some coffee?” Keith asked, getting up slowly from the couch and making his way to the kitchen. He checked the fridge or pantry even though he knew they were both going to be nearly empty. “No cream or sugar, though, sorry.”

If he had known that he would have company this weekend, he would probably have bought some groceries. If he had known Shiro was coming, he might even have tried to make the cabin at least somewhat presentable. It wasn’t like there would have been much of a point to it; Shiro was not one to be so easily fooled about how Keith was living. But still. 

“Black is fine,” Shiro called out. Keith rinsed out of one of the more lightly used mugs that he had and put a pot of water to boil. 

“So,” Shiro asked, when the coffee was done and Keith had brought him out the mug. “This table of yours. Going to build it all yourself?” 

“You mean like chop the wood myself and carve it up? No, I’m going to go into town and see what they have for sale.” Keith gave a small laugh into his mug. “It’s funny you ask. I thought about it. Not a lot of lumber around though, and I’ve only got the knife. A project like that takes more than just a knife, Galra-made or not.” 

“That’s probably smart,” Shiro agreed. “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t try anyway, though.” Keith saw the way that Shiro’s eyes dropped down to his belt, where he still kept the knife. “It always seemed like it was you and that knife against the world.” 

Keith found himself smiling. He hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but it wasn’t exactly untrue. “You know, before Voltron, I think I would have tried. Probably wouldn’t have stopped to think it through. Just tried. Then gotten frustrated when it didn’t work out exactly as I wanted.” 

Shiro didn’t say anything but the noise he made sounded like agreement. “But no,” Keith continued. “I’m going to save myself that trouble. Guess there’s something to be said for thinking ahead, after all.” Keith couldn’t keep the rueful note out of his voice. “I don’t think most people have to travel to other galaxies to learn that, though.” 

“Voltron changed you,” Shiro agreed. He paused, took another sip, “It changed all of us.”

The sentence said less than it left unsaid. But Keith didn't want to pry, and it was too early to talk about these things anyway. They finished their coffee in silence, and when they were both done Shiro just asked, “Should we head out?”

They walked outside and around the house to where Keith had parked his trusted speeder. Despite the paint job, Shiro recognized it right away.

“That's Garrison tech,” he laughed. 

“I might have, uh, borrowed it for a bit.” Keith scanned Shiro’s face for disapproval and when he saw none added, “Figured if I was already expelled, I couldn’t get any more expelled.”

Shiro just made a vaguely approving noise. They had gotten on the speeder and started towards town before Shiro said, “You know, I originally came out here to interview with the Garrison. After the interview was when I remembered the cabin and went to look for you there.”

He said it so quietly that most of the words were stripped away by the wind rushing around Keith’s ears. “What?” Keith called out.

Shiro said, a little louder, “The Garrison offered me a job. A couple of jobs, actually. Pilot. Flight instructor.” He lapsed into silence, “They said I had my pick.”

Shiro was a good pilot and Keith knew he'd make a good teacher. Accepting either offer would have made a lot of sense.

“What did you tell them?” he asked.

Shiro didn't answer at first. “They asked about you.”

Keith’s hand slipped on the gas and the engine registered a loud complaint. 

“Don't worry,” Shiro said quickly. “I told them I hadn't seen you since I got back.”

Keith tried to picture the interview in his mind. Despite himself, he laughed. “You must have had quite the absence to explain after Kerberos.”

“They knew.” Shiro’s voice was suddenly cold. “They knew about everything. That's why they were so generous with an offer. That's why they asked about you. They knew about you too.”

“Did they follow you after you left?” Keith asked.

“If they tried, I lost them pretty quickly. Your secret home is safe with me.”

Keith contemplated for a moment what Shiro said. A slow realization dawned on him. “Doesn't sound like you wanted to take them up on the offer.”

“They talked and talked and said all these nice things about the mission to Kerberos, about the Galra Empire, about everything. But there was one thing I couldn't forget: when you rescued me Keith, the first time. You weren't rescuing me from the Galra. You were rescuing me from them.”

The words sent a shiver down Keith’s spine. Some small part of him whispered: Shiro was thinking of you when he was talking to the Garrison. The larger part tried to drown out that noise. Instead, it focused on an unfriendly fact that Keith had learned the hard way since returning back to Earth. He said, “It’s hard to find a piloting gig that’s not with the Garrison.” 

“Yeah,” Shiro sighed. “Guess I still have to figure out what to do with my life now.” 

The words surprised Keith. Maybe they shouldn’t have. He had been so wrapped up in his own problems, it had genuinely never occurred to him that Shiro might be having a hard time adjusting back to life on Earth too. 

They passed the rest of the trip in silence.

 

The closest town had a few stores and not much else. Keith parked the speeder in the corner of an empty lot that wasn’t too far from the big general store but wasn’t too close either. In such a small town as this, it was inevitable that people were starting to recognize Keith from his repeat visits, but he still didn’t want to do anything that could invite people to try to learn more. 

The store itself was run down, with a badly organized assortment of odds and ends that perhaps at one point the owner might have thought useful to have but no one else did. It was Keith's favorite place around for miles. He often came in with an idea of what he wanted to buy and ended up with something completely different.

“I think the owner’s a bit of a survivalist,” Keith told Shiro as he found himself distracted by a heavily discounted military-grade tent. “These kind of things are frequently in stock.”

“And you want to buy a table here,” Shiro replied, doing an admirable job of letting only a small amount of skepticism color his tone. “A dinner table, or a coffee table, or something else?” 

“I’d been thinking a coffee table,” Keith shrugged. “But I’m not that picky. We’ll see what they got.” He thought about the light coming in from the windows this morning. “Curtains would be nice. If they have them.” 

Shiro looked around. Keith knew he was taking in the boxes still littering the floor and the strange, handwritten signs that the owner had put up seemingly wherever. (Keith really wanted to know the story behind the sign that read “absolutely NO wild animals in the store.”) 

To Keith’s surprise, Shiro laughed. 

“This place seems perfect,” he said.

Keith smiled.

They spent too long in the store. There were the absurd cooking gadgets that looked like something out of a spy movie. The wall of potted plants that were in various stages of health (with a frown, Shiro moved one that was in direct sunlight to the back row and brought one from the back row to the front). The stack of children’s toys that seemed straight out of a nightmare. Shiro and Keith rummaged through, each trying to find the absolute worst of the lot; Keith won when he found a demurely smiling doll with an eye dangling from its socket. And there was no forgetting the section dedicated to electronic spare parts, so full of truly bizarre components that they both had to scrounge around to determine whether, in their professional opinion, any of the tech was Altean. 

Keith had always liked the store, but he had more fun there with Shiro than he had had in ages. It was almost a shame when they finally stumbled upon the small furniture section in the back. There were a few chairs, one of which Keith knew with absolute certainty had come from the Garrison offices and had just been re-upholstered to avoid suspicion and another that Shiro pointed out would break if any weight was put on the seat. 

It didn't seem like there were any tables for sale until Shiro noticed a few boxes tucked in the corner. Keith started trying to move the boxes to see what they had, although the weight of a few of the boxes took him by surprise. Shiro, with his Galran arm, easily helped clear the boxes that Keith had been struggling with. Keith for his part tried not to stare, and definitely tried not to think about why the drafty store suddenly felt a few degrees warmer. 

“Here we are,” Shiro exclaimed.

“Huh?” asked Keith, who had momentarily lost track of why they had come to the store in the first place. 

“You said coffee table. This one looks nice. What do you think?” 

“Oh, right,” Keith's mind raced to refocus on the table in front of him. “It is a coffee table.” Shiro didn't say anything, giving him time to think of comments that were perhaps slightly more informed. “I'd been thinking something slightly smaller. It’s just coffee, right?”

“I don’t think that just because it’s called a coffee table that means you can only use it for coffee,” Shiro said. “Besides, if you have company over, you might need more table than you think.” He must have seen how Keith balked at the suggestion because he added, with a faint trace of amusement, “Keith, you know you technically have company over now.” 

“That’s different. You’re different,” Keith said, before he knew quite what he was saying. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t say anything but instead gave Keith a chance to elaborate. Keith had no plans to do anything of the sort. He stared at the picture of the coffee table that was on the front of the box and tried to think of something to say that would not lead to any follow-up questions. 

“I still have coffee,” Shiro finally said, at the same time that Keith said, “Are they supposed to be that black?” 

“You mean the table?” Shiro asked in confusion. Keith nodded. “I think the color is up to you. You could paint it.” 

Keith frowned. He had really thought that was going to be adequate furniture commentary. “What do people look for in a table?” he finally asked. “It just seems like -- a table.” 

“Hm,” Shiro looked thoughtful. “Weight, maybe?” 

“This would be easier to have an opinion about if it were a fighter jet,” Keith muttered in annoyance under his breath. He looked over at Shiro, who was smiling. There was something in the way that Shiro was looking at Keith that Keith liked a lot and not at all. He returned his attention back to the table. “I’ll take it,” he said, slightly louder than he intended. 

“When you say it like that, Keith, I feel like an auctioneer.” 

“Was that a dream of yours, when you were a kid?” Keith teased. 

“You know, I’ve never thought of it as a career before, but I mean if this whole back-from-the-dead pilot ostracized by the Garrison deal doesn’t work out, maybe I should start looking into the field.” 

Shiro’s laugh was genuine, but Keith heard the edge of bitterness in it too. He smiled. “You’ll find something, Shiro.” Things had a way of working out for Shiro. He had come back from the dead, been experimented on by the Galra, teleported out of the Black Lion and yet each time still made it out alive. Keith did not doubt that even if he was facing some setbacks now, Shiro would be okay. 

“Is there anything else you wanted?” Shiro asked, picking up the table quickly and putting it in the banged up old cart they’d gotten. 

Keith forced himself to stop thinking about Shiro and return to the situation at hand. “Curtains?” he asked. 

“Oh, that’s right, your windows didn’t have those. Must be tough if you want to sleep in.” 

“Haven’t really been in the mood for sleeping in much,” Keith said with a shrug. The simple truth was that he had been restless. He had been restless when he lived with Shiro, and now that there was no around to know if he woke up at 5 AM or not, he was frequently up early, tinkering with the glider or training against imaginary enemies or anything, absolutely anything that would get his body moving and keep his mind distracted. 

“Maybe your guests would want to sleep in,” Shiro said.

“You were up before me today.”

“Other guests besides me?” Shiro must have seen Keith’s dubious expression because he added, “You know everyone would be thrilled to crash at your cabin if you invited them. And while you and I might not sleep in all that much anymore, even fighting an intergalactic war probably wouldn’t be enough to make Lance into an early riser.”

Keith huffed. “I had already decided to get curtains, but if that's the argument I might have to rethink it.”

Shiro just laughed. They found the curtain selections not too far away from the furniture, and Shiro flipped with some enthusiasm through the patterns. 

“Ooh, this one is a space print,” Shiro said. He looked over the curtain in question with a mock severity. “You know, I've been all over the galaxy and don't recognize any of these constellations. Maybe some aliens decided to go into the Earth home decoration industry.”

“Allura did say she wanted to help rehabilitate some of the Galra from the Empire, didn't she?” Keith grinned. “Maybe she got them started in that industry.”

Shiro smiled back in a way that didn’t actually reach his eyes. “Wonder how she’s doing,” he said softly. 

“You miss her?”

Shiro nodded. “You?”

Keith nodded too. “I miss all of it,” he said. It was the first time he had said the words out loud. He had known the truth of it for a long time, but saying it made it actually real for the first time. “I miss Allura. Coran. The castle. The other paladins.” 

“The other paladins are here,” Shiro pointed out.

“Yeah, but I miss -- us, all being on the same team.”

Shiro didn't say anything for so long that Keith began to fear he had misspoken. But it was true, he found himself thinking miserably. 

“When I was in the Galra prison, I thought of Earth so much. Imagined everything I could do when I got home. Even when I was on the Kerberos mission, way back before everything, I thought about home so much. Outer space just seemed so cold and desolate. Somehow on Voltron I'd forgotten about that, and now I find myself missing space.”

He ran his fingers over the fabric of the curtain, distractedly. 

“We were at home on Voltron,” Keith said, letting the loss of it sink into every word. 

Shiro was quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t going to last,” he said, almost to himself. “We won our war. It was our time to go home. Let other paladins be found who could deal with new threats.” 

“It's easier to say that when you're not going back to an abandoned shack,” Keith tried to keep his tone neutral, but there was no missing the bitterness in his voice when he spoke. 

Shiro looked contemplative. “I guess, but -- Is it really abandoned? You’ve already put so much work into it.” He smiled again, and this time Keith could see how it actually went to his eyes. “And now we’re buying curtains. What do you think, space fabric?” He flipped through the samples. “This one has nothing but skulls and crossbones on it. Why would anyone want that?” 

Keith spent a moment looking at the patterns. Whoever owned this store had managed to find a truly bizarre selection of fabrics. Keith eventually cleared his throat. 

“I was thinking of, uh, red, actually.”

Shiro positively beamed at the words. But then his expression turned pensive. “Not black? That was your lion. Although I guess black curtains would look like something out of a funeral house.” 

“Maybe. I loved being the Black Paladin, don’t get me wrong but -- red was my first, though.” 

Shiro nodded in understanding. They spent the next few minutes looking at the various shades of red. There was one that was bright and loud and reminded Keith so much of his old lion that it hurt. He wondered what it would feel like, waking up to that each day. 

Waking up to that each day in his own place. 

That was the color he chose. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt, like the strain in your muscles after a difficult practice session. He wanted to remember his original lion, all of his time as part of Voltron. Memories weren’t ghosts; he didn’t have to be haunted by them. 

As they were standing in line, Keith thought about what Shiro had said. Maybe he had been thinking about his place wrong this whole time. It wasn’t abandoned; he was living there, and he was making it his own. 

It just had taken Shiro visiting for him to realize that.

His cheeks felt warm and he hoped Shiro didn't notice.


	3. Chapter 3

Before they headed back to the cabin, Keith made sure they stopped at the grocery store.

“I’m running low on food,” he said, “Barely got enough for one person.” They headed to the aisle with pasta first; it was one of the few things that Keith was confident he would be able to make. “Man,” he muttered under his breath. “I really wish I’d learned how to cook.” 

“That was a challenge with coming back,” Shiro agreed. “I got so used to Hunk’s cooking. He could make even space goo taste good. When I try to cook, I just end up burning anything that goes in the oven.” 

“Maybe we can get a message to Allura and see if she'll teleport us space goo,” Keith tried to joke as he picked up the bargain size box of pasta and they moved on to the next aisle. “It would simplify cooking.”

“I'm sure Coran would be distraught if he knew that we were having to survive without his preferred healthy paladin formula.”

“I always thought Hunk’s recipes were better,” Keith responded, almost absent-mindedly. It was still hard to talk about the other paladins, but admitting to himself that he missed them had lifted some of the weight off his shoulders. 

“Lucky for you, he's just a plane ride away.”

Shiro said the words carefully. Keith could see how the other man watched him after he spoke. He felt his shoulders tense. 

“Yeah,” he responded. “He is closer.” Shiro looked like he was about to say something else, but Keith interrupted. “So, what, chicken for dinner then?” It was not a subtle change of conversation, but it did its job. Keith almost felt guilty when he saw the look of resignation in Shiro’s eyes. But then Shiro nodded and they went to the deli counter, and Keith was able to bury that guilt along with so many other emotions he had managed to bury over the years. 

 

When they were done shopping, Keith made a beeline to the glider, although Shiro walked at a more relaxed pace. He only seemed to hurry when Keith had already gotten on the glider and his impatience must have to started to show in his expression. 

“Did you get everything you wanted from the town?” Shiro asked. When Keith nodded, he added, with a wistful sigh, “It’s a nice town.” 

The noise that Keith made could generously be called skeptical. But when he thought about, perhaps Shiro did have a point. It was a quiet town. A bit dull. But nice enough. There were certainly worse places to live by. 

But none of the changed one simple fact. “I prefer not to stay too long,” Keith said. 

“Why?” 

They had started flying and the wind ate almost all of what Shiro said. As they reached the edge of town, Keith pushed on the acceleration. It was too abrupt for the speeder, which lurched forward. Keith caught himself on the handle bars. Shiro balanced himself by briefly grabbing at Keith’s side. 

Keith felt the tips of his cheek warm but tried to ignore it. Instead, he thought about the best way to answer Shiro’s question. 

“I go into town sometimes,” he shouted into the air. “Do some odd jobs. I don’t -- really want people to recognize me.” 

The last time he had gone was a few days ago. The project only lasted a few hours. Some big construction project. They needed some labor fast and didn’t ask too many questions. The handshake between Keith and the foreman when he got the money was the last human touch Keith had had. 

Until just now, when Shiro had lost his balance on the glider. 

It hadn’t been something Keith had thought much about. He hadn’t even noticed. He probably wouldn’t have noticed, if it had been anyone besides Shiro. 

It had always been different with Shiro. 

“Is this because you thought the Garrison was looking for you?” Shiro asked. 

Keith shook his head. “I thought they might be wondering where one of their speeders had disappeared to. But I didn’t know they were looking for me until you mentioned it this morning.” 

“So why were you worried about people recognizing you?” 

Despite himself, Keith laughed. Of course Shiro wouldn’t understand. Anonymity didn’t work for Shiro. He was too unforgettable.

But Shiro must have misunderstood why he laughed. “What?” he asked, with just a touch of indignity. “I’m being serious.” 

“No, I just -- of course you’d ask that. I remember you at the Garrison. People flocked to you from the beginning.” Shiro had been a star pupil at the Garrison even before Keith had started. No surprise there; he was smart, talented, kind. People gravitated towards him. If the Garrison was a galaxy, he was its star, and the rest of the students -- and even some of the faculty -- merely in his orbit. 

“Ok, you know that is not true,” Shiro laughed. “And besides, what does it have to do with you going into town?”

In contrast, Keith had always been more of a loner in the Garrison. Maybe more than a bit -- before Shiro had started talking to him one day and inviting him after classes to go train, he hadn’t had any friends, not really. 

If Shiro was the star at the heart of the Garrison, Keith was a comet: cold, distant, alone. 

But while they may venture further away, comets are still caught in a star’s orbit too. 

Keith doubted Shiro would understand if he explained it in those terms. Instead, he just mumbled, “I’m just saying, when you go into town, people remember you. People don’t remember me. I prefer it that way.” 

“Well,” Shiro responded, clearly still confused, but sounding good-natured about it. “I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble today. I’m not sure that store owner will remember us at all, outside our great taste in coffee tables and curtains.” 

“You were no trouble,” Keith said, and he was surprised by how sincerely he meant it. And even more of a surprise to say out loud, for the first time in a while, “I had fun today.”


	4. Chapter 4

When they got home, Keith made a hasty lunch for them both: just sandwiches, nothing fancy. But Shiro said that the weather was good so they ate outside and enjoyed the warmth of the midday sun. Keith had never thought he had much of a view at the cabin, but somehow sitting on the ground next to Shiro and looking out at the expanse, it felt nice just to stare at the surrounding desert. It had a strange, fierce beauty of its own. He had just never stopped to appreciate it before. 

It was Shiro who suggested assembling the table after they've eaten. They brought the box inside and had laid everything inside out on the floor before Keith bothered to even look at the instructions. When he saw them, he let out a huff of amusement and turned the paper towards Shiro. 

“What’s that written in? Swedish?” 

Shiro squinted for a moment before letting out a bark of a laugh. “No clue. Some Altean translator technology would sure be helpful about now, huh?” 

“I don't know,” Keith gave the instructions another dubious glance. Where had the store owner even found this? “Even advanced Altean technology has its limits. Ooh, but look, there are illustrations.”

“There’s one picture of a guy looking in confusion at all the parts he has to assemble,” Shiro pointed out. “So I think we have that part down.”

They spent the next few minutes trying to figure out all the pieces and how they fit together, making only the occasional pointed comment about the instructions. Once they had managed to convince themselves they understand the design well enough to probably get all four of the legs of the table pointed in the right direction, it was easy to fall into a sort of rhythm as they worked. Probably Keith shouldn’t be surprised. Whether it had been in the Garrison or as part of Voltron, Keith had always found it so much easier to work with Shiro than with anyone else. 

He just hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until now. 

It didn’t take long to assemble: it was just a coffee table, after all. But somewhere in passing the parts and tools back and forth, Keith found it easy to let his hand linger on Shiro’s just a little bit longer than he should have. 

He had had a little bit of a crush on Shiro since he had started at the Garrison. He had always tried not to think about it too much. After all, everyone in the Garrison had had a little bit of a crush on Shiro. It didn’t mean anything. Then they had become friends, and Keith was so afraid that his feelings for Shiro might endanger that friendship that he had buried that crush deep enough that he could pretend to forget about it. It had not been easy. Then there was the Kerberos mission. Its failure. Then coming together to pilot Voltron. With each year, it had gotten harder and harder to keep those feelings buried, and it had gotten harder and harder to imagine doing anything else. 

But now, they were no longer classmates, no longer paladins. Just two people assembling a table together. Neither one of them talking. There was no noise from outside to disturb or distract them. The world was quiet. 

Keith thought he saw Shiro stealing some odd glances his way.

Keith looked down at the table and found himself suddenly invested in making sure the screws closest to him really were tightened as much as they could possibly be. By the time he was satisfied, he was sure that any looks from Shiro had all been in his head. They got the legs of the table fastened and flipped it over. 

Shiro looked down at their handiwork while smiling proudly. Keith barely looked at the table. He couldn’t stop staring at Shiro. 

Since coming back to Earth, Keith had spent a lot of time alone. It wasn’t a good thing. It meant he had spent too much time with his thoughts. 

“It’s a good table,” Shiro finally said. He pushed one arm down on the surface experimentally. “No wobbling. Sturdy.” 

“Yeah,” Keith said, agreeing without really hearing. He forced himself to look at the table. “It’ll be nice to have -- you know, some real furniture around here. Make it feel a little bit more --” 

“Inviting?” Shiro asked. 

The words had gotten stuck on Keith’s tongue. 

Like a real home, he wanted to say. 

But the words felt somehow too heavy to make it out of his mouth. Instead, he just nodded at what Shiro had said. 

“I’m sure any guests you have will appreciate it,” Shiro continued. “Or at least,” he smiled. “This guest already appreciates it.” 

“I told you,” Keith said, with a hint of exasperation. “You’re not a guest, Shiro.” 

Shiro’s smile stayed intact, but something changed in his expression. Whatever it had been, it was gone before Keith could identify it. The smile widened, but there was some insincerity in it now that Keith did not understand. 

“Where in the room did you want this table to go?” Shiro asked instead. 

It seemed like there was something that neither of them wanted to discuss and they were just going to talk about furniture instead. Keith wasn’t even sure what the subject that they both didn’t want to talk about was, but whatever it was -- perhaps not talking about it was for the best.

“Right in front of the couch is good,” he said instead. 

He gave an approving nod after Shiro moved the table into place. The rest of the shack might still be in shambles, but at least some corners were starting to look nice.

It was starting to look like a home.


	5. Chapter 5

They spent a few hours watching TV before Shiro suggested they start cooking dinner. “Something nice,” he said. 

Keith wrinkled his nose pensively. 

“There’s the chicken,” he finally said. “I mean, I’m not Hunk and it’s not space goo, but I’m sure we can make something work.” 

“Making something work” translated to the two of them spending a lot of time on their phones looking up recipe and coming to the slow conclusion that most people who put recipes online had more skill, time, or ingredients than they did for cooking dinner tonight. 

“This one looks good,” Shiro said, showing a post from a cutesy food blog to Keith. 

“Za’atar and lemon chicken,” Keith read. He looked at the ingredients. “Oh, za’atar is a spice. There’s no way we have that. I haven’t even heard of it.” 

Shiro made a disappointed noise. Keith could see his eyes linger over the photo of the chicken before he went back to searching. 

“Ooh, this one looks good,” Keith said, handing the phone to Shiro. “And the ingredient list seems more reasonable. I mean, it has like four spices, and I think I have one of them --.” 

“Keith,” Shiro cut in, with a smile on his face. “This says it takes five hours to cook.” 

“What?” Keith grabbed his phone back in a hurry. He finally noticed the cooking time. Shiro was right. The little note reading ‘five hours’ stared mockingly back at Keith. “Five hours to cook a chicken? Can’t you raise a chicken in five hours?” 

Shiro laughed, and then looked contemplative. “Wait, how long does it take to raise a chicken?” 

Just when it seemed like they were running out of options and might starve -- or at least just make some increasingly desperate, “how to make chicken if altean magic has cursed you to burn everything you put in an oven” searches online -- they found a recipe they could actually use that didn’t look half bad: chicken, sauteed in the barbeque sauce that Keith had had in the fridge for a while now. 

“I'm not sure this is what you had in mind when you said nice,” Keith said, as he flipped the chicken over again, noting that it hadn't yet burned but still regarding it with heavy suspicion. Shiro just smiled, and Keith added, somewhat self-consciously, “I thought you might be expecting, I don’t know, a three course meal or something.” 

“I think we can both agree this is nicer than what either of us would cook on our own.” 

Keith couldn’t help but smile too. Shiro did have a point. 

“Besides,” Shiro added. “You’re talking like this isn’t nice, but -- it is. It’s nice cooking. With you.” 

Somehow, when Keith went to flip the chicken breast again, it fell on its side and he had to scramble to get it heating on the right side again. “Hope you don’t mind your food cooked a little unevenly,” he muttered. Shiro didn’t say anything. Keith swallowed heavily. He knew he had to say something and he knew what he wanted to say, but he was still nervous. “It is nice,” he finally managed to say. His chest felt a little lighter for getting those few words out there. The words were true; Keith didn’t know why he had had such a hard time telling the truth. “I like cooking with you, Shiro,” he continued. 

Shiro smiled at the words, and Keith found himself smiling along too. 

 

Shiro suggested they eat outside for dinner again. “I’m sure the sunset here is magnificent,” he said, and of course he was correct. In the desert, with nothing to block the view, the sunset took over the whole horizon. Neither of them spoke for a while. Shiro was soaking in the view; Keith watched the sunset a little, but mostly he was watching Shiro. 

“This must be boring to you,” Shiro finally said, turning to Keith, who blinked rapidly and shook his head. “You see these sunsets every night.” 

“I guess I do,” Keith said, but gave a small shrug. “But that doesn’t make them boring. They’re still beautiful.” Shiro looked contemplative and Keith was quiet for a moment before continuing. “The truth is I had stopped paying attention to them. I needed someone to point them out to me again. Make me see them again.” 

Keith had always been one to keep things to himself, but he found he rather liked this habit of saying these little truths. 

Shiro returned to staring at the sunset. “I can’t imagine getting used to this view. It’s beautiful.” Perhaps he saw Keith’s questioning expression, because he added, “You’ve seen my dad’s place. It’s nothing compared to this.” 

“I like your dad’s place,” Keith replied almost automatically. But even as he spoke, he knew that Shiro had a point. Shiro’s dad had a nice little home in the suburbs. There was a lawn that was always well-looked after, and the neighbors were friendly. But his place had none of the raw beauty of the sunset in front of them. 

To Keith’s surprise, Shiro agreed. “It is nice.” Then he gave a long sigh. “Which makes it so much harder that I’ve started to hate it since I came back.” 

The words felt like cold water splashed against Keith’s face. “Hate it?” he repeated in disbelief. 

Shiro only nodded. “It’s not my dad’s fault or anything. He’s tried his best. Tried to be understanding. But there’s only so much you can do when your son comes back home missing an arm and talking about fighting aliens in an intergalactic war.” He paused. “It’s created some distance.” 

Keith looked down at his plate. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he finally muttered. The words felt stiff and generic in his mouth. He wished he he could think of something better to say. 

Shiro shrugged. “It is what it is.” He let out a huff of amusement. “I can’t blame him. What would I say if I were in his shoes? Good job, son? Glad to hear you defeated an evil space empire?” 

Keith had opened his mouth to respond but realized he had nothing to say. Shiro was also quiet for a long time. 

Finally, he added, in a sheepish voice, “I haven’t told anyone that before.” 

“Not even the other paladins?” Keith asked. “At any of the welcome home parties? I’m sure they know what it’s like. They’ve all had to explain what happened and where they were to their families too.” 

Keith thought he did a good job keeping the bitterness out of his voice. He was surprised when he heard it in Shiro’s voice instead. “And they all make it look so easy.” Shiro shook his head. “No, I didn’t ask the others. At the parties -- well, you’re surrounded by all these people laughing and eating and having a good time. It’s not really the moment when you want to say ‘hey, how in the world are you handling this whole being-back on Earth business, because the truth is I’m not.’” 

Keith glanced over his shoulders and in front of him to take in the house, the sunset, the mountains in the distance. There was no one but the two of them for miles. 

“I think,” he said, one of his lips quirking, “that if you want to talk about not knowing how to handle the return trip, there’s always moving back to an abandoned shack in the desert and trying to make that into a home.” 

Shiro looked thoughtful. 

Finally, he said, with a smile, “I should have tried to beat you here. Claim it first.” 

“No way,” Keith feigned mock indignation. “This is where I lived the year you were a prisoner. That means I get first dibs on it.” 

“It is hard to stake a claim on Earth property from a Galra prison ship,” Shiro conceded. He looked wistfully at the cabin. “If only.” 

“Shiro,” Keith had to point out. “It’s an abandoned shack.” 

“Maybe at one point it was.” Shiro didn’t look convinced. “But you’ve really started to improve it. You’ve made it your own. It’s somewhere in the world that’s definitely yours. I’m -- jealous? That’s not the right word. I’m happy for you. I just wish I had the same.” 

Keith thought for a moment and then shook his head in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shiro’s brow creased in confusion, so Keith added, still shaking his head slightly, “I’ve spent all this time feeling sorry for myself because I’m the only paladin without a family to come back to and then you turn up at my door and tell me -- you’re jealous?” 

That got a frown from Shiro. “Keith,” he started, almost painfully diplomatic, “I didn’t mean to minimize how you felt or anything. It was hard for you, coming home.” 

“It shouldn’t be hard to come home,” Keith practically spit out the words. “That’s what home should be. A place it’s easy to come back to.” 

“Did you find it easy to come back here?” Shiro’s words were soft. Keith blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that question. 

“It was a little the worse for wear when I came back,” he mused. That wasn’t quite the truth. The truth was it had felt like living with a ghost, the way the house was filled with the memory of the year of Shiro’s original absence. “But I guess I got used to it,” he hastened to add. That was true. After a while, it had stopped feeling like a haunting. Instead, he thought about moving in like you put on an old pair of shoes: maybe a little adjustment was required, but it was still at the end of the day something familiar. 

There was a moment, a pause, before Shiro said, “I found it easy to come back here.” 

He said it like a confession. Like a secret. 

And there was no missing this time the way that Shiro was looking at him. Keith felt the tips of his cheek start to burn. 

“I’m glad you came back,” Keith started. “You have a habit of coming back.” 

“I like the times when I never left best,” Shiro said. His eyes had dropped to Keith’s lips. Keith’s mouth felt suddenly dry, the expectation heavy in the air. 

“Keith, I --,” Shiro began suddenly. There was a strain in his voice. It was slight, almost imperceptible. But Keith knew his voice too well to miss it. “I’d like to kiss you.” 

Keith smiled slowly. “That’s good,” he said, “because I’d like you to kiss me.” 

Shiro leaned forwards, and made good on his word. 

Keith had fantasized about what it would be like to kiss Shiro in the Garrison, on the Castle of Lions, on different planets across the galaxies. He’d imagined chaste kisses, desperate kisses, accidental kisses, and everything in between. And then each time he had put the idea out of his mind and dismissed it as unrealistic and absurd. 

And now here he was, the last rays of the sun still clinging to the horizon, kissing Shiro. Shiro’s mouth tasted faintly of chicken. He had never tasted like chicken in Keith’s almost-fantasies. The weather had never been just too hot and almost stifling like it was now. He’d never thought about how it would feel to have the weight of Shiro’s hand pressing into his thigh. Or the weight of his hand as it touched Keith’s face. 

Keith had dreamt about this moment a thousand different ways and none of them had been anywhere near as good as the real thing. 

It lasted only a minute before Shiro broke away. Smiled. Laughed. Almost giggled. There was something about his tone that bordered on giddy when he said, “You know, I’ve thought about doing that for so long --” 

“What?” Keith’s tone was sharp even as he couldn’t stop smiling. “Why didn’t you? _I’ve_ wanted to do that for so long. Or for you to do to that for so long. Both. Either.” 

“I was an upperclassmen first, and then the leader of Voltron and I just -- I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. I was afraid I was imagining things. But now, with all of that behind us --” 

“With all of that behind us,” Keith’s lip quirked, “you can be absolutely sure: yes, I want this. I’ve wanted this for a very long time.” He leaned forward to kiss Shiro again. 

There was a lot of lost time they had to make up for.


	6. Chapter 6

It was dark before they finally went back inside, playfully touching each other even as they put their dishes in the sink. 

They shared another long kiss in the kitchen. Keith swallowed a nervous breath even as his hands ghosted over Shiro’s hips. “I think,” he said, his voice low, “it might be time we move this to the bedroom.” 

His heart skipped a beat at the way his words made Shiro’s eyes widen. 

“Are you sure?” Shiro asked. Keith saw him swallow heavily. “This isn’t moving too fast?” 

“If anything, this is long overdue,” Keith reminded him. Shiro gave a slight nod, and they kissed their way to the bed. When they were in the bedroom, Keith felt a sudden surge of self-consciousness. The room was bare, almost spartan; the only thing in here that could pass as decoration was the cloth he had nailed to the wall as makeshift curtains for when the sun had annoyed him too much. The teenager whose heart had raced the first time he saw Shiro in the Garrison would have been disappointed that this was the setting for what had been his greatest secret and greatest desire. 

But then Keith looked at Shiro standing in the bedroom, and he saw the way that Shiro was looking at him, and he realized none of that mattered, because what mattered was that that secret was out and that desire was about to come true. 

He fell back against the bed, letting Shiro fall on top of him, kissing him and reveling in the weight of Shiro’s body against his own. He lolled his head back and felt a thrill that went straight to his cock when Shiro started to kiss up and down his neck. Keith ground his hips forward and let out a small gasp when he felt Shiro’s erection so close to his own. 

A single thought occurred to Keith: he and Shiro were both wearing too many clothes. He pushed Shiro’s jacket off and then helped Shiro shrug his own red one off his body and onto the floor. He was in the middle of getting Shiro’s shirt off when Shiro whispered, “You look gorgeous.” 

The words caused a chill to run up Keith’s back. 

His hands dropped to Shiro’s belt and he tugged at it until it eventually was loose, at which point he blindly and unceremoniously threw it off the bed. 

“Shiro, I -- fuck,” he whispered, as Shiro took the moment to go back to kissing his neck again. Keith was pinned, and hard, and his head was swimming. Words were difficult. But there was something he knew, and the words tumbled easily from his lips. “I want you,” he said. “I’ve wanted you so long.” A long sigh, that turned into a moan as Shiro’s mouth explored lower. “I want you now.” 

Shiro gave a contented hum at the words. His hands started to lift Keith’s shirt off, but Keith was too impatient for that: he yanked his shirt off in one quick motion. He was rewarded with Shiro’s tongue flicking playfully against his nipples. Keith arched his back even as he let out another moan, reveling in the sensation. He barely noticed Shiro’s hands undoing his belt and then the fly of his pants. But there was no missing the feel of Shiro’s hand on his cock. The metal was not quite cool to the touch, but unmistakably not as warm as flesh. Keith jerked at the touch and a gasp caught in his throat. 

“Too much?” Shiro asked, pulling away. He was giving that gentle half-smile that Keith could get lost in. He got so lost in it that he just stared stupidly at Shiro for a moment, wondering why the other man had stopped. Shiro looked down at his hand and the ghost of guilt passed across his face. “Too strange?” 

Keith blinked. Had to refocus. His brain finally started to work again. “No,” he finally managed to say. “It’s good.” Shiro’s hand ghosted over his dick once again, and Keith impatiently thrusted against it. “Keep going.” 

The satisfied noise that Shiro made in response went right to Keith’s cock. Precum had started to form on the tip and Shiro spread it around with his thumb. 

It felt good -- impossibly good -- and since so many of Keith’s fantasies were coming true all at once, he figured he might ask for one more. 

“Shiro,” he said, his words coming out in a half-pant. “I want you inside me.” 

“Keith,” Shiro started, then leaned forward to kiss his neck again. And then to Keith’s surprise, he laughed. Keith could feel the heat of Shiro’s breath against his skin. “I’ve thought,” Shiro continued, “about you saying that, or me saying that to you, so much and now it’s real and I just --” Another laugh. Keith reached a hand under Shiro’s chin to bring him up for another kiss. 

“It is real,” Keith said as he broke away. He knew he was trying to convince himself of those words, too. 

“Do you have lube?” Shiro asked. “Condoms?” He frowned again, and in the set of his lips Keith saw the concern about making sure the situation was handled exactly correctly that Keith had fallen for all those years ago. 

Keith nodded. “Bathroom cabinet.” Shiro made to stand, but Keith cut him off. “Let me get them.” 

He walked up, still half in a daze, and walked to the bathroom. He thanked all the different religious entities that he had encountered while traveling the stars that when he had first moved to the cabin he had gone out to buy condoms and lube. He had thought by moving out he would get a chance to start over, get laid, break out of the funk he had been in for so long. 

He was finally doing all those things, but not even in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that it was Shiro who was waiting for him back in the bedroom. 

He picked up the necessary items quickly and returned back to the bed. He put the lube on the side of the bed and handed the condom to Shiro, who sat up and started to tear at the wrapper. 

“You sure you want me on top?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Keith answered, as he settled back on the bed and rolled over, “And you know, we’ll have plenty of time to experiment more later.” 

Shiro leaned down and kissed his shoulder blades, rubbing a hand up and down Keith’s sides. Then he sat back up, unpopped the lube, and began to pour it over his hand. He was slow in working his fingers into Keith, and he took longer than Keith was used to in his admittedly limited experience. Finally Keith muttered, “Just because we waited so long doesn’t mean we have to wait this long now,” which got a laugh from Shiro. 

“If you’re ready,” Shiro said, and when Keith nodded he positioned himself and thrust into Keith. Keith’s breath caught in his throat. The first thrust felt good, impossibly good. He leaned into the bed, trying to angle his hips just right. Shiro leaned over the bed to support himself with one arm, and with the other wrapped his fingers around Keith’s dick. 

“Oh, fuck, Keith,” Shiro whispered, and Keith just answered with a long moan. His hands scrambled to find purchase in the bedsheet even as his hips rocked back to meet Shiro’s. 

It took a few tries for them to find a rhythm that worked, but when Shiro found just the right spot inside him Keith let out a scream. He covered his mouth afterwards but Shiro didn’t seem to mind the noise. The opposite, actually. “Be as loud as you like,” Shiro leaned down to whisper, his breath hot against Keith’s ear. “I like hearing you scream. I like knowing I can do that to you.” 

He accentuated the words with a particularly well-timed thrust and Keith was screaming again, his limbs turned to liquid and his brain to mush. 

When he came, he came in ropes against his stomach and the bed. A few more thrusts and he could feel Shiro shudder and then release inside him. The other man pulled out as his dick softened and rolled over on the edge of the bed. Keith turned to curl up against his side.

They lay there quietly for a long moment, until Shiro muttered, “Fuck.” Keith turned to look at him; Shiro was looking up at the ceiling. There was something pensive in his expression, as if he was contemplating what had happened or what he wanted to happen or maybe just the world at large. And then his expression shifted, as if he had made a decision, and he laughed and said “fuck” again. 

“Was that good?” Keith asked. The corner of his mouth twitched, and it felt like even if he wanted to he could not stop himself from smiling. 

“Amazing,” Shiro answered. “I never thought --,” he raised an eyebrow. “I never thought you would want that. With me.” 

“I spent years pining after you,” Keith said, running his hand up and down Shiro’s chest, tracing the contours of his muscles and hair, the bruises and the scars. “I thought it was obvious. I thought I couldn’t be any more obvious.” 

“It can be hard sometimes,” Shiro pointed out, “to know what’s the difference between what’s actually true and what you just desperately want to be true.” 

Keith took a moment to think it over. “Funny,” he said, a little wistfully, “I think that’s how I got so lost all these years.” 

“Well,” Shiro leaned over, and reached forward to give a quick kiss on Keith’s nose. “There’s nothing stopping us now.” Keith let out a huff, and then leaned his chin up until they were kissing again, for real this time. 

They fell asleep in that bed, not long after that, limbs locked together. It was the first easy night’s rest that Keith had had in a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

The sun had started to filter lazily through the makeshift curtain by the time Keith woke up. Memories from last night started to pour in, and he looked over across the bed. Shiro was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Keith. 

“Good morning,” Keith volunteered. He tried but couldn’t quite keep the hesitancy out of his voice. The morning felt like a spell or an illusion somehow. If he spoke too loud, it would be over, and Keith would be back in bed alone and the events of the weekend just a dream.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, Shiro turned to him, smiled, leaned down to kiss him and said, “Good morning.” 

Keith made them coffee again, wearing just an old shirt that he had found, while Shiro was more meticulous and got fully dressed. 

“It’s Sunday,” Shiro said in a disappointed tone as they waited for the water to boil.

Keith, who currently did not have a job that required him to care about the days of the week and was in no particular rush to get one, asked, “Does it matter?” 

“I told my dad I would be gone for the weekend, but I’d probably be back no later than Sunday.” 

“Oh,” Keith said. He thought about it for a moment, and then said, “Do you absolutely have to go back today?” 

Shiro let out a huff of a laugh. “Extend my stay? How long were you thinking?” 

“Another day? A few more days?” Keith said. The part of Keith that was still a smitten cadet in the Garrison wanted to add “forever”, but he wasn’t a schoolboy anymore and he was just a little too practical for that now. Instead, he said something that felt closer to the truth. “However long you like.” 

Shiro looked contemplative. “I want to stay longer,” he said, his voice soft. “I want to stay with you so much longer. But at the same time -- I don’t know, the Garrison wants a response to their job offer, my dad was hoping to move some things out of the garage this week and wanted my help.” A frown. Keith took the moment to pass him his mug of coffee, from which he took a contemplative sip. “I guess I could reschedule those things, though.” 

The longing for Shiro to agree -- to stay longer, to abdicate at least for a while longer from all those other responsibilities -- was so strong that Keith could almost taste it on his tongue. But he was not so eager he could not hear how conflicted Shiro sounded. 

“You don’t sound like you’ve made up your mind one way or the other.” 

“I want to stay. This weekend -- god, this weekend, Keith, has been amazing. But some part of me is afraid that if I stay after today, each day I’ll find it harder and harder to leave. I’ll just forget the outside world.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Keith scoffed. He might have tried to pass it off as a joke, but Shiro knew him too well. 

“Keith, I came looking for you this weekend to try to bring you back to the outside world.” He gave one of those smiles that Keith was pretty sure Shiro knew made Keith melt. And his tone was almost impossibly gentle when he added, “We have missed you in the world at large.” 

“You say that,” Keith sighed. “I never thought -- well, I was so afraid that you and all the rest of the paladins had everything about going back to Earth figured out and that there wasn’t going to be any room left over for me once everyone had gone back to their own homes.” 

Shiro walked over to him, set his coffee aside, and kissed Keith so deeply that Keith could feel the tingling of it in his toes. 

“I told you already,” Shiro said, his voice barely above a murmur, “that I haven’t figured out the first thing about coming home. But I know that I want you to be part of that process.” 

“You’ve already made yourself part of my home,” Keith pointed out, his voice equally low. He was leaning towards Shiro, trying to chase one last kiss. He would probably be doing that chasing for a while. 

A smile spread slowly across Shiro’s face, but he pointed out, “I don’t think helping you make a coffee table really counts.” 

“I bought a curtain, too. Remember? We still need to hang that up.” 

“That’s right,” Shiro nodded. “Those red curtains.” There was a sparkle in his eyes. “After all this time, it is still your color.” He turned around to look at the walls. “I think it’ll really help liven up the place. What do they say in the interior decoration world? Bring the place together. I don’t know. I was never much for design.” 

“I think it would have been asking too much to give you great piloting and leadership skills and a keen eye for design,” Keith teased. He liked the way that he could make the tips of Shiro’s cheeks turn red. 

Shiro didn’t even try to be graceful when it came to changing the subject. “I’ve never put up curtains before.” 

Keith shrugged. “I just nailed some cloth to the window for the bedroom and it worked out okay. I’m sure installing a real curtain is basically the same.” 

“You know,” Shiro said, and he looked so serious for a moment that Keith was almost fooled, but then the corner of his mouth quirked, “if we can defeat the Galra Empire, I’m pretty sure curtains will be no match for us.” 

It took an hour and no less than three instructional videos for Keith and Shiro to get the curtains up. 

“At first I thought ‘gromulets’ were a kind of food, and now that I know they’re not, I never want to hear the word again,” Keith muttered at one point. 

Still, despite the setbacks and confusion, Keith had to smile when they finished and the curtains were hanging across the windows. “These really do make the room look nicer,” he said. 

“Are you going to put real curtains in your bedroom next?” Shiro asked pointedly, even as he played with the fabric of the curtain with one hand. 

“Let’s not go crazy with the home renovation ideas, Shiro. A sheet nailed to a window makes a perfectly fine curtain.” 

Shiro had to laugh at that, but his smile started to fade. “Are you sure you don’t have any other home renovation projects?” He reached out to tuck a particularly errand hair back behind Keith’s ear. “It makes it easier to justify not heading home just quite yet.” 

“I’m sure there’s going to be a lot of those in the future,” Keith said. There was some part of him that did not want to let Shiro go: he had lost Shiro too many times, first to the Galrans, but then after they had returned back to earth, almost to his own stubbornness. But as much as Keith wanted to stay with Shiro forever, he knew that this was something he needed to do. “But for now, I'm not sure.”

“What are you going to do once I leave?” Shiro asked.

“I’m going to call Hunk. Apologize. And let him know that to make up for my absence, he’s invited here. Call everyone and extend the same invitation.” He smiled. “I think it’s time I host my own homecoming party. Maybe in a few weeks. What do you think?” 

The smile that Shiro gave him lit up his face. It lit up the room. 

“I’d like that. I’m sure everyone will.” 

Keith leaned forward to steal another kiss from Shiro. He savored the taste of the other man, knowing that he would be leaving soon, but confident also that he would be back soon. When he finally broke away, Keith took a second to look around the room. He pictured his little cabin, his new home, as it would be not too far from now when all of his friends came to see it. Shiro would be back. Shiro could come back as many times as he wanted, and Keith could come visit him too. There were so many more days and nights they could spend together.


End file.
